


Arrest

by taylor_tut



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Protective Bruce Banner, Sick Character, Sick Tony Stark, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 21:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16071953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A drabble on my Tumblr for Tony being delirious and getting into some trouble that almost gets him arrested until Bruce saves the day.





	Arrest

Bruce Banner and Peter Parker rounded the corner of the alley and into the main road and nearly dropped their ice cream cones. 

“Tony?” Bruce called, shoving his ice cream into Peter’s hands, rushing toward the two cops that were pushing Tony’s face against the police car. “What’s going on here?”

“Bruce,” Tony whined, seeming breathless and out of it. Even from several feet away and despite not being “that kind of doctor,” Bruce could see the flush of a surely-searing fever dotting his cheeks, the rest of his face pale and with his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Tony was clearly unwell, but the officers did not seem concerned about that. 

“We were called because he was apparently on some murderous rampage,” one officer explained sourly. “Stark open-fired into a crowd with a gauntlet.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped. “What?” he asked, stepping closer. “Did he hit someone?”

“No, thank God,” the other officer replied. “He fired straight up. Apparently he freaked out.”

“And you’re just gonna take him to jail?” Bruce accused, forcing the green out of his voice. 

“Well, what else are we supposed to do?”

Now with the confidence that the cops clearly had misinformation, Bruce nudged past one of them to get closer to Tony, who had slumped against the car bonelessly. Pressing one hand to Tony’s forehead, he hissed in concern at the alarming heat. 

“We can take him from here,” Bruce said; “come on, Peter. Help me get him—”

“He’s under arrest,” the first cop clarified, tightening his grip on Tony when he slumped downward. 

“You can’t arrest him,” Bruce argued, “he’s clearly delirious.”

“He’s just doing the limp-toddler act,” the second officer rolled her eyes. “Like half the people we take in try it thinking we’ll give up.”

“No,” Bruce pressed, his irises flashing green, “he’s burning up with a fever and needs medical attention. If you won’t let us take him to SHIELD medical, then call an ambulance; I don’t care. But that kind of fever is gonna cook his brain before you’re done processing him.”

Tony was still silent, eyes barely open and certainly not tracking, and Bruce doubted that he was even listening to the fight around him. The cops exchanged a look before probably deciding that pissing off a man who sometimes turned into a rage monster wasn’t the best idea and irritably shoving Tony’s full weight into Bruce’s grasp, which nearly toppled both of them over until Peter, ice cream now in the garbage, came under his other side to support him. 

“He better not get into any more trouble,” the second cop warned, and Bruce forced himself to nod politely while they climbed back into the car and left. 

“Holy shit,” Peter cursed, feeling the heat rolling off his mentor in uncomfortable waves, “he really is burning.”

“Yeah,” Bruce fretted, “we need medical. Can you call Fury and tell him—”

“Already done,” Peter curtailed, “and SHIELD is sending an ambulance.”

Bruce nodded, stooping down to allow Tony to sit on the curb, leaning him against Peter’s body so he could check him over. 

“Good, thanks,” Bruce muttered, worry-mode taking over. He tapped Tony’s boiling cheek to rouse him, sighing in relief when he finally focused his gaze on Bruce’s.

“Bruce,” Tony breathed, “the attack, the Chitauri.” His eyes were wild and panicked and bright, but Bruce was unshaken. 

“There’s no attack,” he reassured, “we’re okay. You’re just sick and seeing things. Probably flashing back to things.”

Tony nodded as if he understood but the undiminishing fear in his face told Bruce that he did not. 

“Just trust us,” he said. “We’ll take care of everything.”

Tony relaxed against Peter a bit, either from exhaustion or low blood pressure or maybe, just maybe, actual faith in his friends. 


End file.
